Radiant Child

by Duncan Lay

  ‘Wait!’ Mabel grabbed his arm. ‘No man should be alone on this last night of life.’

  Kettering smiled sadly. ‘But I am alone. I have always been alone. And this night is nothing special. The man I was died months ago. I shall merely join him tomorrow. Take care, Mabel.’

  She watched him go, wondering how a man could live with such anger and pain. She almost started after him, but her children grabbed her hands, and she allowed herself to be dragged back into the celebrations.

  ‘We should have done this earlier,’ Merren admitted.

  ‘I got here as fast as I could,’ Martil mock-protested, then yelped as she twisted the hairs on his chest. ‘That hurt!’

  ‘You big baby! I’ve seen you cut open by spears, swords and axes and not even whimper!’ She laughed. ‘And you complain about a tiny chest hair!’

  ‘Yes, but that hair was on a really big scar!’ He grinned.

  She rested her chin on his chest. ‘Not hurting you, am I?’ she asked with a smile.

  ‘No, that’s fine,’ he admitted. ‘Although I also wish we had done this earlier.’

  ‘I know. But it wasn’t possible. You know that as well as I. You knew from the beginning that I could not put myself before the people. While there were so many people in danger, I could not indulge myself.’

  Martil did not think anything could puncture his mood. Inside this room, they were safe. It was like a cocoon, insulating them from the world outside. But that comment struck home. ‘Indulge yourself? Merren, is that all I am?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant! It’s just that we’ve argued about this before—we don’t have the time to argue now and I don’t want to waste what time we have left fighting.’

  Martil ran his hand gently down her back.

  ‘You’ll get no argument from me on that,’ he agreed. ‘Although I thought you would want to spend the time planning a defence of the city? Hoping against hope that we can find a way to defeat our enemies?’

  She sighed. ‘After all we have been through in the past turns of the hourglass, on top of what has happened these past few weeks, my mind has had enough. Planning would be useless, for I cannot think straight.’

  ‘Then you made the right choice to be here with me.’ He grinned.

  ‘Although it can lead to more problems,’ she said wryly, running a hand over her still-flat belly.

  ‘I can’t tell. But I wouldn’t care even if I could tell.’

  She smiled. ‘Thank you for what you did today with the people. Although it has doomed us…’

  ‘Gello would have betrayed us. I know it. And anyway, that Fearpriest turned up. We were not going to do a deal with Gello in front of him.’

  ‘True, but I was going to say we can’t really surrender to spare the people’s lives now.’

  ‘But would it save their lives? You saw what that Fearpriest did.’

  Merren rolled over. ‘I’d like to be able to give our son a safe, peaceful country to rule,’ she sighed, looking down at herself.

  ‘I’d like to give him a chance at life. A future. Like to see him grow up, play with Karia.’

  ‘Tell me a bedtime story. About the life we should have,’ she invited.

  Martil thought for a moment. ‘Well, you should make me the Prince Consort. The people may not be over-fond of Rallorans but after we save them, they see me, as the Dragon Sword wielder, as the best choice for their beloved Queen. Our son becomes the Crown Prince and, when he comes of age, takes up the Dragon Sword and the throne, with you to offer a little advice. He appoints Karia as his Royal Magician and we can leave the country in their hands while we go and live on an estate somewhere, where you answer the odd scroll and my only duties are keeping you pleasured.’

  She laughed. ‘And I thought you hated sagas! By then I’ll be old and grey and you’ll need an apothecary’s herbs to perform your duties!’

  ‘You’ll dismiss me in favour of some other young warrior.’ He winked.

  ‘Why only one? I’ll need at least two!’

  ‘So I’m worth two? That’s some compliment, at least.’

  She laughed, feeling as if the cares and worries of the throne were a thousand miles away. It was what she had tried to achieve with Louise and Gia but it was only around Martil she could put aside the Queen and just be Merren. Seemingly only he could see her as a woman first, a queen second. She kissed him. ‘I don’t want to talk about the future any more. All we have is now. So let us live in the now.’

  ‘As you command, my Queen.’

  The frenzied partying across the city slowly died down, as people fell into drunken stupors, or stumbled into bedrooms, or just fell asleep in the streets. Birds flying back from the north circled high above the city before flying down and waiting on the roof of Barrett’s house. Scores of them. Then hundreds, until the roof itself seemed to be covered in a living carpet of birds. And still more arrived, filling the surrounding trees. But although there was a light on in one of the bedrooms, the shutters were locked tight and nobody came out. The birds waited.

  Onzalez could feel the power coursing through his veins, finer than wine, stronger than any narcotic. The sacrifices had brought their usual reward. There was nothing to compare with it. He had power from his God, enough to do almost anything. The only thing to top it was what he’d felt as he’d stood before the walls, feeling the city’s terror pulsing out. Fear and horror were effective weapons; they would leach the courage from the defenders. All would imagine themselves on those frames, under the cruel knives, and would hope for death instead. He planned to grant their wish.

  Today he had defeated their magician, tomorrow he would bring down the city gates. After they had failed to best him today, he had no doubt they could not stop him tomorrow. This was his plan, the grand scheme he had worked on for the past ten years. And it was all coming to fruition. He had been a minor priest in Tenoch until he had seen that one continent was not enough for Zorva. That vision, which he knew had to have come from Zorva Himself, had first propelled him into the highest ranks of the priesthood and then given him the opportunity to come here. He alone of his brethren had seen the possibilities of conquest beyond their own continent.

  Back in Tenoch he sat on the Seventeen, the council of Fearpriests who ruled in Zorva’s name. There had never been individual leaders there, not when every man was as ruthless and power-hungry as the next—until Onzalez had come along. The others were old men, most of them, happy to preserve the power they had, unwilling to take risks. First he had bent them to his will, then he had persuaded them to support his quest to bring new glory, new countries to Zorva. The Seventeen did what he wanted, had even sent him the Tenoch army when he asked for it.

  Certainly there were those who hated him, who resented the purity of his vision and his fanatical dedication to converting the world by fire and blade. They supported him now but hoped he would stumble, give them the chance to wrest back the power. Once he returned home in triumph he could deal with them once and for all. And triumph was but a day away.

  The thought was simply intoxicating. Onzalez could not wait for tomorrow. All his dreams would come true.

  13

  Merren yawned.

  ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ Martil reached out to her.

  ‘Pretty good,’ she admitted. ‘My mind is working again, although we didn’t get much sleep!’

  ‘It’s because you weren’t worrying about everything,’ he explained. ‘See? We should have done this earlier.’

  ‘Get away with you!’ She laughed, pushing him back.

  He kept going, and rolled out of bed.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

  ‘I need to raid the kitchens for every sweet treat I can find before going to see Karia.’ He stretched.

  ‘I’ll come too,’ Merren offered. ‘She has been begging for me to play with her—I might not get another chance. After all she has been saying to me during the dragon flights, I thought we should give her what
she wants—act like a real family for a few turns of the hourglass, at least. It will be something for her, before the end. I never thought things would end this way. It always seems easier in the sagas.’

  ‘This is real life. Not the sagas. Besides, they tend to have happy endings,’ he offered.

  ‘Yes, thanks for telling me this is real life and not a saga. Aroaril knows I wouldn’t have realised it otherwise,’ she mocked him gently.

  ‘Anyway, it is not the final ending,’ he pointed out.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The dragon, Argurium. She cannot let me die, I have to use the Dragon Sword on the Dragon Egg. And I shall not leave without you and Karia. At the very least, we three shall escape.’

  Merren sat up in bed. ‘I cannot leave the people to die!’

  ‘I don’t want to leave them either, but I don’t think Argurium is going to be able to carry everyone to safety…’

  ‘Barrett!’ Merren struck herself on the head.

  Martil looked at her blankly.

  ‘Barrett and his Magicians’ Guild brought many of the people here by opening gateways through the trees. So they could send them away just as easily!’ Merren cried.

  ‘Well, not that easily. There’s too many people,’ Martil warned.

  ‘But we could get many away! We just have to buy as much time as possible—time for the people to escape, time for the mages to recover from their exertions and try again,’ Merren exclaimed. ‘It is so obvious—why in Aroaril’s name did I not think of that before?’

  ‘Probably because you had me on your mind,’ Martil said wryly.

  Merren looked up at him. She had never imagined she could regret last night—but now she did. She had spent the night enjoying herself, when she could have been helping her people. How many might have escaped in the turns of the hourglass she had selfishly wasted? But she could not say that.

  ‘We cannot waste time now, we have to get Barrett,’ she decided, searching for clothes.

  Martil began climbing into his.

  ‘We’ll make a token stand on the walls and then fall back to the park where the oak trees are. We need to protect them for as long as possible. And we have to send the families of the soldiers first. We will ask them to fight to the death. The least we can do is promise them their families will be safe.’

  Merren paused. She could see his point. But she could also see this ending in disaster. Deciding who would go and live, and who would stay and die—it was going to be a nightmare. And the end, when the Berellians and Tenochs were pressing in, the last few soldiers trying to buy time for one more person to escape…her mind rebelled at the thought. But she would not shy away from the responsibility. Time was slipping away and they should have begun yesterday.

  ‘Agreed,’ she said. ‘I shall order the families of all soldiers to go to the city park to receive a gift from me. No sense in causing a panic and having thousands of extra people rushing to the park. We shall need a regiment of men to maintain order and ensure there is no crush or stampede as it is.’

  ‘I’ll go and find Barrett, get him to prepare,’ Martil decided.

  ‘And no attempts to make Argurium take me away from the city early! If I am leaving people here to die, they have to know I am risking my life with theirs.’

  ‘Would I do that, my Queen?’ Martil said.

  ‘Yes. Now hurry!’

  Martil smiled as he pulled on his tunic. She knew him. But the smile faded as he contemplated what lay ahead. While he was confident the dragon’s magic would prove equal to the task of saving Merren and Karia, the thought of the men he had commanded all dying—from the Rallorans to the Norstalines he had worked with and trained—was too much. And as for Merren—he could see this coming back to haunt them both. She would blame herself for not saving the people.

  He found Karia asleep in the bed, Nott in the chair beside her.

  ‘Ready to breakfast and a ride on Tomon?’ he asked softly, waking Karia gently.

  ‘Dad!’

  She was sleepy at first but soon warmed up as she worked her way through the various biscuits and cakes Martil had found in the kitchen.

  ‘Save a couple for Archbishop Nott,’ Martil suggested.

  ‘I think we shall all need our strength today,’ Nott agreed, standing with some difficulty. ‘Chairs are never comfortable to sleep in, and even less so when you’re as old as I.’

  Martil rushed over to give him a helping hand. ‘Thank you for looking after her last night,’ he whispered.

  ‘It was my pleasure. I wanted a last night with her,’ Nott murmured.

  Martil did not want to ask what Nott meant by that.

  ‘I’m ready for that ride now,’ Karia suggested, through a full mouth.

  ‘Then let’s go,’ he said, forcing a smile.

  The city was still sleeping after its big night as they rode towards Barrett’s house. Some of the people were only now stumbling towards their beds, or were lying in doorways or in gutters. Martil had to guide Tomon around a few of them.

  ‘What are all these people doing? Why are they sleeping in the street?’ Karia wanted to know.

  ‘They had a big party here last night,’ Martil said.

  ‘A party? Were you there? Why wasn’t I invited?’ Karia asked indignantly.

  It was only when they rode into Barrett’s property that she forgot all about the party she had missed.

  ‘What are all these birds doing here?’ she gasped.

  Barrett was equally surprised when he came outside, although he took great care not to show it.

  ‘They must have just arrived. I checked through the night,’ he lied. In truth, he had been far too occupied to think about the birds. But he was not about to reveal something like that to Martil.

  ‘Well, what have they seen?’ Martil asked impatiently.

  After a few moments, Barrett turned back with a sigh. ‘The Derthals are still fifteen to twenty miles away. Their view is imprecise, because it was dark, but it is certainly no closer than that. They won’t arrive until this evening, at the earliest.’

  ‘And you are sure this information is only a turn or two of the hourglass old?’ Martil asked sharply.

  Barrett drew himself up. ‘Listen, I have just about had enough of you questioning me,’ he began.

  Martil held up a weary hand. He needed the mage’s help. ‘All right. I just had to be sure.’

  ‘Well, you can be!’ Barrett answered defiantly. He was never going to admit he had been asleep on the job to this Ralloran oaf. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

  So Martil explained, quietly, while Karia played with the birds.

  ‘You realise there will be a panic. It will be bloody work, at the end. People will be rushing to get to safety as the Berellians and Tenochs close in,’ Barrett warned.

  ‘It will be up to you to judge when to go,’ Martil told him. ‘My men and I will give you as much time as we can.’

  Barrett nodded. ‘I’ll get the wizards ready and meet you in the park.’

  ‘I’ll bring you Kettering’s regiment. The people will be happier having their own Norstaline soldiers telling them what to do. Having Rallorans hold them back from safety could just cause problems. Besides, Kettering can be relied on to be ruthless.’ Martil picked up Karia. ‘I’ll see you later.’

  Barrett watched him go, a nagging sense of unease eating at him. He had no idea when the birds had seen the Derthal advance. Perhaps he should send out more? He shook his head. He needed all his energy to get people away. Besides, even if they had arrived early in the night, the Derthals had to sleep as well, did they not? They would not arrive before nightfall. After all, the roads were solid mud, the surrounding ground little better. Men had been unable to manage better than a mile or two in a turn of the hourglass while returning to the city from the north.

  As Barrett and Kay had feared, and Merren predicted, the park was soon chaos. The request for just the families of soldiers had seen long columns of people hea
ding towards the park. Many others had not heard this was just for the families of soldiers, and came along to see what was going on. Some thought this was a continuation of the party, and staggered in hoping for more free drinks. Then some families of rangers, who had been told by Kay the real reason for going to the park, began telling friends that they would be taken to freedom.

  This tale spread like wildfire through the city. When Sendric heard it, he immediately marched down to the park, flanked by scores of merchants and guild members, determined to see those he regarded as the most valuable members of Norstaline society make it to safety.

  The sight of the Berellian and Tenoch armies marching towards the city, regiment after regiment appearing from the south and west, only speeded the process. Even those who had hoped their soldiers might be able to hold the walls of Norstalos City took one look at the massive armies and knew it was hopeless. Escape was the only way to survive.

  Kettering met the crowds with a double line of men, who linked shields but kept their swords sheathed. They had been ordered not to threaten the people but would not have done so, anyway. Yet, while they tried to let only those they recognised through, they were being pushed back all the time—and some people were using back alleys and the like to slip past them and race towards where the wizards waited.

  Martil ordered the men to stand firm, but was afraid people were going to get crushed against the armoured lines. He could see the men were also wavering. Many people in the crowd pressing against them were crying, holding up money to pay for safety, or holding up sobbing children, which was worse.

  ‘Hold them! We need to keep this in order!’ he snapped at Kettering.

  ‘I’m doing what I can, sir!’ Kettering fired back.

  Martil glowered at him but left him to it. He was plainly doing everything he could.

  Kettering stalked up and down the line of men.

  ‘If you know them to be soldiers’ families, let them through! But slowly! We can’t have a panic! Any man who does not hold his ground, by Aroaril I’ll make him wish he had been stretched out over a Fearpriest’s altar!’ he bellowed at them.